Member-only story
An Unrequited Set of Circumstances
A Poem
passion’s never done right by me,
and i never see the pendulum swing
my way, my way, my way
but there are beautiful words
caught in an air of meaning
and i long to catch them
(just catch them and marvel at them —
like snowflakes in the dead of winter)
no one knew me, no one thought to know me,
but they collected their pages anyway
(and their paychecks too)
beautiful words catch like fire,
and they ignite,
and they’re wonderful to behold
(to behold, to behold, to behold)
but no one knew me,
no one saw me in the prism of a moment,
no one cast me in a shard of bluest light
(blue wasn’t my color, but i wore it with pride)
i wanted nothing more
than to see words caught
in my hands, in my hands, in my hands —
i wanted nothing more
than something like whimsy,
something like wonder
